Exit Wounds
by Cecilia Dashwood
Summary: [REVISED] Cloud and Tifa spent a night together under the Highwind when they thought for sure they'd never see another sunrise again. Now, Tifa's left to deal with the repercussions on her own terms - accepting her fate the only way she knows how: with a smile. If only Life didn't have other plans for her. AU. Before the events of Advent Children.


Chapter One: Aftershock

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At 21 years old, I had seen more than my fair share of success and victory, as well as loss and defeat. I had played both heroine and villainess, both lover satisfied and lover scorned, both friend and foe. Three months after crashing meteors and silver haired zombies, my life came down to another binary - a plus or a minus. A thin blue line or a set of parallel lines. Pregnant or not pregnant.

Spending more than enough time on both parts of the coin, I thought parenting would be the easier part of my life's story - even if I was doing it on my own. I could be a firm and fair; a mentor and friend. I'd had enough practice over the last nine months during all our globetrotting and living with Barret and Marlene before that.

And so, on the white beaches of Costa del Sol, in the middle of February, I accepted my fate. The role I was born to play. I was going to be a Mommy. And I was going to be damn good at it.

The first order of business was to find a stable backdrop for our life together. I settled on Kalm since it had the least damage dealt and, quite frankly, had a homey feel that came close to my halcyon memories of Nibelheim. The fact that no one associated with AVALANCHE lived there only added to the reasons to make a home out of the historic buildings and cobblestoned streets. It also had the cheapest real estate since after Meteorfall. Finding a doctor was also easier than expected, since the World Regenesis Organization had formed and immediately passed a healthcare law that streamlined coverage to everyone. The clinic was minutes from my green grass. I allowed myself to relish in the extra food I could eat and coo over baby furniture. I'd set up a schedule of reading to my growing stomach and going on daily walks around the town. The first time my little one kicked was in a bakery during one of those walks, while I was helping myself to a second croissant. I rubbed the side of my stomach and promised to give my baby all the bread it wanted as soon as I could.

The next week, my doctor told me the baby's gender: a girl. I cried because I knew she could make the world just a little softer, happier, and wholesome. A girl was just what I needed to start healing. I named her immediately, and placed her name in the stories I read and the songs I sang to my slow growing belly. After the sixth month mark, I knew I had fallen in love again.

In the early morning hours of a particularly muggy July day, a small wave of painful energy moved from the top of my stomach to the bottom of my pelvis. I moved, like the books say to do. It was too early for full on contractions, my body was only preparing for the actual show. I shifted my weight to my side and cradled my pillow. As I began to drift away, the pain came back. This time it roared down the length of my rib cage and spine before adding to the pressure growing in my hips. In those moments, as the pain increased in consistent intervals, I had one of those clairvoyant spells when I knew I wasn't going to make it until morning. I drove to the hospital in my pajamas and my hair coming out of it's braid.

I was in the delivery room within thirty minutes after my doctor came in. I apologized for making her come in two hours before her shift started. She waved me off, telling me her favorite babies were the early ones. She took a sip of her coffee after giving me an epidural and talked to me about the uncharacteristic heat we were having. She left me with magazines while my body prepared to have a baby.

Skye Emily Lockhart made her debut on July 2nd, 0008. Like all babies do, she cried when she took her first breath of life. I fought the mixture of fear and happiness to keep from crying with her. The nurses handed her to me before they cleaned her. I grasped at the tiny, mucus covered angel and cradled her next to my heart. Eventually, the nurses convinced me to hand her back over so they could complete their newborn checklists. Walking out of the room with my gurgling newborn in their arms, I felt empty.

A small knock on the door followed their exit. My doctor came in with a two steaming cups. She handed one to me.

"I'm not supposed to have caffeine." I said, eyeing the cup as she sat down in the plastic chair next to my bed. My doctor, Laura Tobey, had white hair brushed back behind a purple headband.

"It's herbal tea," she explained. Dr. Tobey held up her cup to show the steaming cup of coffee she sipped on. "I didn't just have a baby, so I get the good stuff." I laughed before taking my own drink and sipping on it.

"You did very well!" Dr. Tobey gave my hand a squeeze. "The bravest pregnant woman I've ever seen and you delivered the most beautiful baby I've ever seen, too!"

"I haven't gotten a good look at her." I confessed into the styrofoam cup. "It was all so hazy."

"You were still on the epidural," She explained with a wave of her hand. "You'll get to see her all you want very soon."

As she finished talking, another nurse came in with a folder to hand over to Laura and exited my room. Dr. Tobey scanned the folder before setting it off to the table beside her. Eyes back on me. I'll never forget those eyes - big and brown. They were the type of eyes that made me want to be a better person. I never had trouble looking in her eyes.

"So there's the matter of her birth certificate."

Until now. I stammered in response. While I blundered, Doctor Tobey flipped open the folder to a typed sheet of paper.

"This is the correct spelling of your baby's name, yes?"

"Yes."

"I love this name. Skye. It just _fits_ her."

"I've always loved it, too." Dr. Tobey took another sip of her drink before pulling a pen out of her white doctor's jacket and setting the drink to the side.

"And Emily is such a good middle name as well! Maybe you should go into consulting for baby names. Don't laugh! It's a more popular field than you think it is."

"I had luck with her." I set my own drink to the side. "So do I need to…?" I motioned to the pen in her hand.

"There's just a matter of the paternity of the baby," Doctor Tobey enunciated each word in the sentence, flipping the pen from her index finger to her thumb and back. "Look, I don't judge. I only have to ask for documentation purposes only." She waved the birth certificate in her hand. "Do you know who the father is?"

"No." The words flew out of my mouth and slapped Tobey in the face.

"Do you want to know who he is? A paternity test is simple to do and we keep old Shin-Ra DNA files so we could pin him down in a minu -"

"No." I reiterated. "I don't know who he is."

"Do you want to know who he is?"

"No."

"Tifa," Doctor Tobey set the pen on her lap and wrung her hands together. "I only worry what you're giving up. I admire you immensely, but single mothers, most of them … at least the ones that I've seen … have at least contacted the fathers. It doesn't mean they have to help financially, but it's peace of mind for him."

"I don't know where the father is, or who it is." I added that last part in. "Besides, he never … frequented this area. There wouldn't be any files on him."

"You do understand what you're doing if you register this child as a Bastard." I must've flinched because she added. "Their terms, not mine."

"It's a new world." I said. "The WRO promised to take care of all those affected by greed, including the bastards and the orphans."

Doctor Tobey said nothing when she handed me her pen. She collected all the papers I signed before pressing the call button for a nurse. We finished our drinks in silence before a woman dressed in green came in.

"Ms. Lockhart would like her baby. Any tests left can be finished in here."

"No need for that, ma'am." The nurse said in a distinctive Western accent. "She's all ready for her mother."

Another nurse came in behind her with a bundle of pink. I held my arms out and cradled my soft breathing, sweet smelling love. Doctor Tobey gave us one last genuine smile before taking the empty cups and leaving the room. I settled back into the pillows arranged to support my dull aching back. Skye slept, her breath tickled against the skin not covered by the hospital gown. I held her closer to my body.

My small baby. Two months early had made her even smaller than I had anticipated. Still, she was perfect. I lifted my hand to touch her small face, pulling the cap covering her head. My heart stilled when the tendrils of black hair spilled onto her skin. She had my hair! I studied my baby even closer, looking for any other distinguishing features. My mother's chin and nose, my father's ears.

The baby cooed from the movement and began to move. I felt the breath escape me as she opened her eyes and focused in on me.

Lumiscient blue. Big. Round. And framed with thick black eyelashes. Just like his.

I held my baby close until she closed those eyes again. Not knowing that this would be our only happy time.

* * *

 _Hi!_

 _There's no other way to excuse my absence for almost three years. Between a my first "big girl" job in a very stressful field, moving to the opposite side of the country, and getting another job and all the adjusting that comes with that, I just lost focus on Exit Wounds. I'd try to write the chapters to wrap up the story, but what the characters wanted was not what I wanted. So I'm trying it again - switched the P.O.V. among other things. Thank you for all who kept believing in this story and checking in on me. I hope to make it up to y'all soon!_

 _Love,_

 __CD_


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